


all those afternoons

by minkit



Category: IT (2017), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Character Study, Coming of Age, Experimental writing, First Kiss, First Love, Freeform, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, lots of run on sentences, mentions of aids, mentions of murder (henry bowers), rambling writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 16:17:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20820209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minkit/pseuds/minkit
Summary: It was the little moments, all those afternoons spent together with Eddie--it was in those moments that Richie fell in love.A Richie Tozier character study





	all those afternoons

**Author's Note:**

> this literally started from a headcanon about how I think Richie realized his feelings for Eddie and that he's gay and then a friend suggested a writing sprint and it took on the form of... THIS. I literally wrote it in like 2 hrs so pls forgive any mistakes.
> 
> I've never written in this style before. It's VERY new to me but I had an absolute BLAST so I hope it's not too strange and I hope you like this character study of Richie!!

It was the little moments. That's what had gotten to Richie eventually. Small, miniscule moments that, overall, he hardly even remembered. It was amazing, when he thought about it, how those times just lying on his back in bed, music playing through his room, the window open to let the breeze in could've meant so much for him. So much for his entire life, his future, who he was as a person. Who the person next to him meant *to* him. It was indeed a little... ridiculous. 

But those moments were probably the moments he thought about some of the most when he closed his eyes. He could remember being ten or eleven and tugging Eddie into his room with a promise of not being too loud to his parents. It never really stuck; Richie liked his music loud, even at that age. Blasting to tune out all of the thoughts that got stuck in his head, though at the time, he hadn't really known that's what he was doing.

It was those late spring Derry days. Eddie would come over and it’d be just the two of them and they’d hang out and chat and perhaps curse each other out. Eddie had never been a very dirty mouthed kid growing up, not like Richie who had known what the word dick meant and at least five different ways to use it by the time he was seven. He had been the one to coax that first uttered curse out of Eddie and how the smaller boy had blushed and how Richie had grinned, but then it had turned around on him and Eddie became almost as filthy mouthed as he, perhaps in a different way, however, as the curses were normally aimed at him to let him know that he was “a fucking annoying dipshit”.

Richie never really took the insults to heart, because he insulted Eddie just the same and maybe to outsiders that would look like they hated each other, but he swore that they didn’t. Richie wasn’t really closer to anyone else, except maybe Stan but even at ten, Richie could tell there was a difference between his friendship with Stan and his friendship with Eddie. 

What that difference was? Well, that remained to be seen. He didn’t get it himself. Didn’t get why it did, just that it did. But that’s fine. It wasn’t really all that important, probably, and Richie didn’t need to think about it. All he wanted to do was hang out and listen to music (music that Eddie’s mom had always told him would later turn into Eddie falling into the wrong crowd and doing drugs and “you know what drugs do to your body, Eddie” but Eddie still risked it. He still wanted to listen to Richie’s favorite bands with him. Maybe that made Richie happier than necessary). 

It was one of those such days that he really began to notice just how different his friendship with Stan (or Bill even) and his friendship with Eddie was. Eddie, so much smaller than he was, and the difference was striking when they laid side by side on Richie’s bed, their arms pressed up against each other, flipping through some of his comics. They’d discuss the story very seriously, and truly it was the most serious things in their lives at the time. They were eleven and having fun and being kids and that’s how it should be.

But they were also growing up and growing up came with certain aspects that Richie had been aware of for a long time, even if he didn’t entirely know what any of it really meant. Maybe he pretended, but it still wasn’t on his mind all that much. Until it was. Until he was laying next to Eddie, the smaller boy’s (ten, his birthday not having yet come to pass) eyes flickering across the pages of the comic. Richie found it hard to even concentrate because he felt warm for some reason, just enjoying watching Eddie and wasn’t that just something? Wasn’t that just strange?

It happened often. He’d find himself paying less attention to the music playing or the comics in their hands, pay less attention to perhaps the action figures they were messing about with, and more attention to how Eddie was paying attention to them. He didn’t get it. Why was something like that so distracting? Why was Eddie so distracting?

It wasn’t until he heard that older boy Henry Bowers call a kid a fag and wondered what it meant that he started to worry, however. A boy watching a boy, did that automatically make them one? Was watching Eddie read truly so much of a big deal? Being that… didn’t really sound great, not if it got people calling him words like that and hating him. 

It was definitely a turmoil and he tried to keep it in mind, but the word burned itself to the front of his mind. It echoed and taunted him, even as he rough-housed with Eddie. Just messin’ about. Boys being boys. Eddie whining and cursing him out when he’d get teased a little bit too much, but that wasn’t such a big deal.

Richie just liked to tease him. That’s all. It didn’t have to mean anything. He just wanted to watch Eddie flush with annoyance because an annoyed Eddie was perhaps his favorite. He’d get all flustered and at a loss for words and it was just so funny that Richie couldn’t help himself from doing everything in his power every single day to get that flustered Eddie.

It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean anything.

And that’s what he told himself even as he watched Eddie sleep next to him, softly breathing out through his mouth, a comic laying on his stomach. Richie truly was about to doze off too, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away--didn’t really want to.

Had Eddie always had so many freckles on his face? And how could him being so damn cute be fair? Richie was positive Eddie had taken all of the cute available in Derry, Maine and stolen it for himself. And wasn’t that just a damn crime? 

Or a blessing.

And Richie let out a small noise at the back of his throat as he pulled his eyes away to look up at his ceiling. The remnants of some glow in the dark stars were stuck to the textured ceiling and he tried to concentrate on those, think about them and ponder them and wonder if he should ask his parents for some new ones. It was better than thinking about Eddie, thinking about how nervous he was suddenly feeling.

Who felt nervous over a friend like this?

But eventually it did fade from his mind and he fell asleep too, but that only ever lasted for a little while.

It was another time when they were playing games, everyone was over at his house; Stan and Eddie and Bill and himself. The entire gang was there and they had snacks and comics littered the floor and he had tried to keep further away from Eddie, but somehow had instead ended up right next to him, their arms pressed so closely that he was actually almost behind Eddie. 

They were laughing and talking about the newest issue of a comic and Richie just kept looking at him, again. It seemed to be all he did anymore, and he wanted it to stop, so the logical thing to do was to grab for the comic and he placed his hands over Eddie’s and his heart stopped. 

Eddie’s hands were smooth and taken care of. That’s just how it was when you had a mom like Eddie’s mom. Eddie was well taken care of, perhaps too well. Richie’s hands were a little dry and rough from playing around in the dirt, something Eddie absolutely refused to do, going on about things Richie always kind of tuned out, but, whatever, it’s not like it all that stuff really mattered anyway. 

Still, his heart shouldn’t be racing so much just by touching Eddie’s hand. It’s not like it was the first time, not even close, but his pulse beat in his neck and he grew flustered, having to stand to use the bathroom and he wondered--how the fuck did I get like this?

Surely, this couldn’t actually mean anything. Richie was fairly normal, all things considered. Sure, he could be a bit hyper, a bit too much as far as his words went--Trashmouth, the nickname was already sticking. But this? Being like this meant there was something wrong. Definitely. 

Normal boys didn’t have a crush on other boys. Not even cute ones like Eddie Kaspbrak who freaked out over the smallest hint of germs and wore a fanny pack to carry all the medicine he had to take and had a dusting of freckles and could curse a storm up and still somehow be adorable while doing it. 

Yeah, it totally wasn’t normal at all. But it would hopefully go away with time, like all illnesses.

Except it didn’t. Richie himself could feel it getting stronger and they were twelve and Richie was no longer just looking at the freckles that littered Eddie’s skin, but also wondering what would happen if he leaned in and pecked his lips. He’d probably be punched and called names and cursed out, which Eddie had done before but never seriously, and he didn’t want Eddie to hate him, so he didn’t.

Even though he really wanted to, but he wouldn’t, couldn’t. Knew that even just thinking it could get him in trouble, and he didn’t like that he was thinking it, but it was difficult to stop your own thoughts because you had to think about stopping it but that just made you think about it even more. It was confusing, a conundrum, basically, and that was a big word for a twelve year old Richie. 

Gay was a big word for twelve year old Richie. So was AIDs. 

AIDs would be an especially big word for twelve year old Eddie who would definitely flip out if he knew his best guy friend had big gay feelings for him. Being gay meant being dirty, it meant disease, it meant mental illness--literally everything that Eddie hated.

Eddie would hate Richie for his urges, and he couldn’t exactly blame him for that, especially when all of his urges were literally centered around Eddie.

Not that he didn’t see other boys and think “oh, cute” and wonder what it’d be like to maybe hold hands and shit, but it was normally followed up with “but he’s not as cute as Eddie”.

It was true though. Nobody was as cute as Eddie. 

They were thirteen when their Losers Club grew. Now there was even a girl and Richie was actually a little nervous that they would all notice that he didn’t ogle nearly as much as his jokes would make it seem like he would have. So he made sure to ogle. He made sure to joke and flirt, but he wasn’t interested. She wasn’t interested. She liked Bill and their new friend Ben liked her and it was an entire thing and Richie decided to stay out of it other than sneaking out of class maybe once in awhile to go smoke with her under the bleachers at the football field.

The seven of them were growing up and his jokes were becoming more lewd. His favorites had to do with Eddie’s mom just because they got the other boy so worked up. Some times he’d take them so seriously too, and that was really funny. They all knew he hadn’t fucked Eddie’s mom, but it was a running thing and Richie would go to his grave swearing that he had if it meant the look of frustration on Eddie’s face would be permanent. He liked that face. It was one of his favorite faces.

You know, other than the one where Eddie sometimes smiled at him so cutely and his eyes would sparkle and shit--that was definitely his favorite one, but by hell would anyone ever actually hear him admit that.

Being thirteen also came with other things, like Bowers and his reign of terror becoming even fucking worse, somehow. It was almost unthinkable, but it was worse, but that was also how they had met Ben--and Mike, so it wasn’t really all that bad, and it especially wasn’t bad when at the end of summer, Bowers got arrested for murdering his father. Yeah, sure, sucked for his dad but at least Bowers was out of the picture.

Their afternoons in each other’s rooms, had turned into afternoons spent at the clubhouse in the Barrens that Ben had built them all. Laying side by side with zero issues turned into arguing over the hammock until eventually the two of them were sharing it every day, swearing that because there were two of them that meant they got to sit in it for a full twenty minutes, not just ten. Normally the others would just roll their eyes and not even press them to get out when their time was up and Richie was thankful until he wasn’t, because arm brushes had turned into Eddie’s legs sliding all over him. They slid over his legs, his lap, his arms, and sometimes even his shoulders or his face, pushing at his glasses and annoying him, and it wasn’t really annoying him, more that it was just difficult to ignore what it did to him. 

Richie would give Eddie a look but Eddie would just grin, seemingly so pleased with his chance to annoy Richie, and didn’t notice the way that Richie would have to discreetly slide Eddie’s legs away from certain areas, all the while still kind of just holding them because hey, Eddie had nice legs. 

They were getting older and once upon a time, Richie had thought the crush he had somehow developed on his hypochondriac friend would disappear, but it only worsened and he was pretty sure it was no longer a crush and it was something way more. But that word scared him and he wouldn’t even allow himself to think of it, because he knew he’d never be able to get passed it if he acknowledged it, and he had to get passed it because there’s no way that Eddie would ever feel the same way.

Eddie would hate him. 

And that was what he had been telling himself for going on three years and by the time they’re fourteen, Richie had somehow begun dating Samantha Hendricks and it was anything to just get Eddie out of his head. Maybe if he actually dated a girl, the feelings would go away, but it didn’t happen. Instead it just meant he saw Eddie less and Samantha more and his dates were spent being moody and thinking about how much more fun things would be if Eddie were there and soon Samantha was breaking up with him, complaining how he didn’t pay attention to her.

Richie just shrugged and said maybe if she wasn’t as boring as fuck he’d pay attention to her. She slapped him and left and then he was dating Tiffany Peters and Georgia Cummings and it was all at once, neither of them knowing, but Eddie knew and he was disappointed in him, how he could treat girls like that.

But he just didn’t get it because girls didn’t like him, and that’s what Richie had said. Girls didn’t like him because why would they like a guy like him? And Eddie had looked so hurt that Richie’s heart had nearly broken and he didn’t get why he was acting this way, but Eddie stopped talking to him as much, even when they were with their other friends--he wouldn’t even get mad when Richie told a joke at Eddie’s expense. 

Instead, he’d get up and leave and Richie was left with his heart aching and everyone giving him disappointed and angry looks because he was ruining the group, but what could he do?

And maybe he was trying to push Eddie away because it sucked that he couldn’t have him. He couldn’t even let himself think of the possibility, and that fucking hurt, and being around Eddie fucking hurt and Eddie didn’t even know that it was all his fault because Richie fucking loved him and he could never have him.

He broke up with Tiffany and Georgia and began dating Claire and that lasted until they were sixteen. It lasted a long time and maybe that’s because Claire didn’t actually like him. Neither of them said anything, but they didn’t like each other and it suited them perfectly well. Claire wouldn’t try to kiss him. Some times they’d hold hands, but it was always in public and always in view of other people and one of those other people was Eddie who had completely stopped talking to him.

In fact, their entire group had kinda grown apart and when he thought about it there was a little bit of a pang in his chest. He’d be sitting on a desk in a room, getting people laughing, because that’s what he did, he made people laugh and people were actually finding him funny now. People actually liked him now. Claire was fairly popular and that made him popular by default. And he looked cool. He had long, shaggy hair, and sure his glasses were nerdy but he listened to the cool music and smoked weed and shit so he was pretty cool. Not in the jock sort of way, but the too cool to be cool sort of way and it was weird that he had gone from a loser to being too cool to be cool, but he supposed that’s how high school and puberty worked.

But things like that were always fickle to begin with and Claire told him that she didn’t want to lie any more. She had met a girl that she liked--older and in college and away from all the stupidity of Derry and their homophobia and Richie got it. He quietly accepted it and said nothing, because he understood. He wished he could be brave like that, but he just wasn’t. Instead, he got high and drank a little bit too much and the next thing he knew he was throwing up on a Derry’s cops shoes and they didn’t like him anyway, so they busted him for underage drinking and made him stay in a locked cell for a few hours before calling his parents.

His parents made him stay in the cell all night before coming to finally pick him up and Richie wouldn’t speak to them and they wouldn’t speak to him, equally disappointed in each other for opposing reasons. These were his parents and they had let him sit in a jail cell and how the fuck could someone do that to their kid? And his sister Mandy and just shaken her head at him, patted his arm wordlessly and then left to go do whatever it was that Mandy did, he didn’t fucking know, and he didn’t care at all.

And he hadn’t seen Eddie for more than a passing glance in weeks and he was suddenly thinking about those moments from when they were eleven and lying on his bed and brushing hands and arms and just laughing and goofing off and enjoying each other and Richie wondered what the fuck had happened. He wondered how the others all were. He’d seen them all in school, except for Mike who was homeschooled and he hadn’t seen in months except maybe once or twice while he was on a delivery.

Mike always gave him a little, sad smile and left and then Richie felt like shit and stole a pack of cigarettes to chainsmoke where he and Beverly used to laugh and jokingly flirt together while talking about all sorts of inane things. 

Ben was always busy in the library and apparently Bill had taken up writing classes. Stan was the only one he sometimes talked to and it seemed like he was also going through some shit, but Stan wouldn’t say and Richie wouldn’t ask and he wondered if that was a mistake, but couldn’t bring himself to put a damper on the few moments they would actually spend together. 

Eddie didn’t even look at him anymore and that hurt more than fucking anything, but hey--that’s what he deserved for being a filthy little homosexual who was in love with him for six fucking years, huh?

And he was still in love with him, perhaps more than ever, and they were seventeen and halfway through junior year of high school and Richie couldn’t stop watching Eddie. Following him with his eyes whenever they passed in the hallway. Eddie would normally be laughing, wouldn’t give him a second glance as he talked to one of his new friends and Richie wanted to storm over and tug Eddie away because Eddie was his--Eddie was his friend.

Except he wasn’t his and he wasn’t even his friend and Richie had no right to do any of that, so he didn’t. But he did start talking to the others again. 

He asked Bill what he was always writing and Bill would at first just shrug before going into a deep dive about his story, normally horror ones. This one about some clown and a group of friends and Richie was actually pretty fucking amazed that Bill had all of these ideas in his head so he asked how Georgie was and struck up a conversation about Bill’s little brother and they were laughing and smiling and it was as if they had never even stopped at all. 

And he had caught Bev sneaking out of school one time and joined her and was surprised to find that she was actually dating Ben because he had always thought she’d end up with Bill, but no it was Ben and she seemed happy. She had gotten away from her father and he remembered hearing that rumor about him having been arrested, but like the shitty former bestie that he was, he had never asked. Her aunt had moved to Derry so that it wouldn’t be even harder on Beverly, starting up a new life and Richie was so happy that this brilliant girl, the only girl he ever loved (but not in the same way he loved Eddie) was doing so well in life. She’d taken up an interest in designing fashion and Richie told her she should definitely go for it. She had always been fashionable. 

He then went and visited Ben in the library who was apparently studying for early graduation and damn, if that wasn’t impressive. Richie congratulated him on finally snagging the girl of his dreams and also on losing weight because when did that happen? Ben was getting hot--that part was said as a joke, but it was true and Richie was amazed.

Mike he actually seeked out, this time with Stan by his side and the three of them hung out and both Mike and Stan were boring but they were also incredibly fun and Richie had missed this. He’d missed the way Stan would roll his eyes at him when he’d say something dumb, but return his jokes with even sassier comebacks and he had missed Mike’s pure goodness and it felt like Richie was finally regaining everything that he had lost.

Everything except one thing and it was probably the thing that mattered to him the most in the entire fucking world, but it was also the thing that Richie was least sure about.

And it was the summer before senior year and Eddie still wasn’t talking to him. He had tried, but Eddie had always just looked at him and Richie had chickened out before he could even say anything, or he’d make some horrible joke that Eddie would’ve used to either find funny or curse him for, but Eddie didn’t even do that anymore and Richie felt like he didn’t know Eddie.

But it had been years since they’d spoken and he kind of didn’t know Eddie anymore and Richie thought maybe that hurt worse than anything else.

But he didn’t want to give up because he missed Eddie. Even if they could never be anything more than friends, being friends was better than not being anything at all and that was what Richie had learned. He had learned that losing Eddie wasn’t worth it. He missed the way Eddie tried not to laugh at his jokes and the way Eddie huffed when he was at a loss for what to say. Richie missed the glares and the way Eddie could suddenly lose his temper at him so badly and then proceed to sit on him and be more annoying than Richie ever was.

He missed the dusting of freckles across his cheeks and the way he’d get a lecture about pretty much anything and he’d pretend to be listening to his words when he was really only listening to the sound of Eddie’s voice because he loved Eddie’s voice and he loved Eddie and that hadn’t changed or gone away in seven years and Richie honestly couldn’t see it going away for the rest of his life either.

So he showed up at Eddie’s house and Sonia Kaspbrak was surprised to see him, but reluctantly still let him in and Eddie crossed his arms over his chest and gave him a glare and it was so fucking cute that Richie almost forgot that he was supposed to be apologizing.

So he apologized and Richie was pretty sure he had never said a more heartfelt “I’m sorry” and was also pretty sure he would never give another one in his life. Eddie was silent and Richie almost thought that was his answer, but then Eddie sighed and invited him to sit down and then they were talking.

And then they were laughing and it was almost as if they had never stopped being friends in the first place.

And Eddie really was the same exact person he had always been. He hadn’t changed and Richie’s heart soared to know it and he felt like an eleven year old realizing his crush on his best friend, but this time he had no thoughts of dirty or wrong, just that he had missed Eddie so much and he was never going to let anything come between them again. 

It was summer and the gang was back together. The old clubhouse was still around. Ben did some work on it and it was better than ever, but they were all taller now and didn’t really fit as comfortably as they once had, but it was a nostalgia sort of thing and Richie was back to laying in the hammock and Eddie was back to yelling at him to get out of it. 

But Richie refused because he knew that it would lead to Eddie climbing on top of him and he was disappointed when instead Eddie just rolled his eyes and sat on the floor, but they were older now and sitting on your seventeen year old best male friend would never be as innocent as it had been when they were barely thirteen and Richie was making crude jokes about Eddie having a vagina.

He definitely didn’t have one and that was one of the things Richie couldn’t stop thinking about. 

But they were still growing closer and once in awhile their hands would again brush when they were reading comics and it really was almost like they were kids again, but this time Eddie would give him a panicked look that Richie wasn’t entirely sure what it meant. He’d ignore it and instead just shove the comic back in front of their faces, his side pressing against Eddie’s shoulder. 

Eventually Eddie would relax and somewhere along the way, Richie’s hand would end up resting on Eddie’s thigh, but Eddie wouldn’t say anything about it. He wouldn’t tell him to move it and he wouldn’t move it himself and Richie’s heart would start skipping and he wondered if this meant something because seventeen year old boys don’t let seventeen year old boys touch them like this.

But Eddie was allowing it, and he was allowing Richie to lay his head on his shoulder and whisper into his ear, breath fanning against his face. Eddie would laugh, even if what he said wasn’t particularly funny, and then scoot closer and Richie wasn’t imagining this, he knew he wasn’t imagining this.

And it was like all those afternoons where they had been kids and were laying on Richie’s bed, but this time they were sitting, cross legged with their knees touching and just staring at each other. The window opened and a bee may or may not have been flying in and out of his room, but Richie didn’t care and Eddie hadn’t noticed. Music played just loud enough to drown out themselves, but not loud enough to get rid of the sound of cars passing by or the neighbor mowing his lawn.

Richie’s hands covered Eddie’s and then he was moving in and Eddie wasn’t pulling back and that was as good of an answer as any to Richie because then their lips were pressed together and Eddie still wasn’t pulling back. But Richie did pull back and they looked at each other, their eyes locking, but Richie could see the way Eddie licked his lips and glanced at his and then they were both leaning in and Eddie’s hand was on his face and Richie’s rested on his thigh and they were kissing.

And it was soft and innocent and Richie had never felt more like a kid, giddy and happy, than in that moment because here he was, kissing the boy of his dreams.

And the boy of his dreams was kissing him back.


End file.
